


Advent, advent, the fans get fanned

by Maracuya



Series: The Seven Fandoms [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maracuya/pseuds/Maracuya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our beloved characters are preparing for Sevenmas...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advent, advent, the fans get fanned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starbird1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbird1/gifts).



> This story is dedicated to Starbird1, who coined the term "Sevenmas".  
> Disclaimer: I do not own my works of fanfiction/fanart. I do not profit from the stories or drawings, nor would I  
> ever seek to do so. All credit for characters, plot and settings go to the respective original author or artist.

Advent season had arrived in the apartment complex that was called “The Seven Kingdoms”, and with it had come all the extra work its inhabitants had to cope with: prompts and fanfic exchanges wherever they looked.

At home, Sansa had put up an Advent wreath with seven candles, as it was the custom. For Sandor, she had chosen electric candles, not real ones, though she missed the scent of bees' wax. And Sandor had gifted her with an Advent calendar that contained a sweet treat for every day. At daytime, they worked like mad on the Sevenmas exchange productions, and in the evenings, they strolled across the Wall's Market with its mulled wine, grilled sausages and hot cocoa from the Summer Isles.

 

This evening, they were meeting Jaime and Brienne at the Wall's market, and Jon, Ghost and Val, too.

Jaime yawned while holding a tankard of mulled Arbor gold to his cheek.

“Long day?” Sansa asked.

“Are trees made of wood?” Jaime asked back. “Brienne and me were having this sword scene, you know, the one before we're caught and taken to Harrenhal. Well, the author wasn't content, so we had to do it about a dozen times.”

“Ouch,” Sansa answered. “Perfectionism may look good at the end, but the way there... exhausting, to say the least.”

Brienne nodded and smiled: “But I was allowed to spank Jaime's ass, not the other way round, so that accounts for something.”

“Yeah, rub it in, keep it coming,” Jaime lamented.

 

Brienne, however, asked, turning to the others: “And you? What did you have to do today?”

Sandor tore on a roll filled with hot roast from the spit, chewed, and answered: “Sansa had to do a fishy scene with Petyr. I was itching to tear him to shreds. I know it's only supposed to be for show, but if you ask me the bastard was enjoying himself too much again.”

Brienne nodded: “Yeah, I know how you feel. Jaime has to do a scene with Cersei tomorrow.”

The fair-haired man batted his eyelashes and faked utter innocence. Until Ghost poked him into the private parts with his muzzle and sent him reeling and swearing.

Everyone laughed.

 

Jon stretched himself.

“I've been fighting Others most of the day. In a short pause, Sam and Gilly did a smutty drabble, until I could take over again. Since it was outside, Sam kept complaining his crucial parts were freezing, and Tormund couldn't help but comment that such a state was desirable for the action at hand. I had to save Val from a wight next. They had cast this chap named Steelflake, you know? Anyway, we were on the edge of the Wall, of course, to make things more dramatic. The problem was that Steelflake had spoofed Tyrion beforehand, and we both fucked up the scene twice, because we had to laugh.”

 

“Speaking of Tyrion,” Jaime cut in. “He's desperate and doesn't know which present to buy for our dear lord father.”

“Are you faring any better?” Sandor asked.

Jaime shrugged.

“I've been suggesting a golden broomstick for his arse, but Brienne is against it.”

The tall warrior woman rolled her eyes.

 

“Jon, by the way, do you have something for Arya? I'm a bit at a loss,” Sansa asked.

Jon smiled.

“She's getting a voucher for a paintball session from me, because it was her wish.”

Sansa grimaced.

“I don't like that sort of activity. Sandor, do you have an idea?”

Sandor growled.

“She's getting a haircut from me, that's all. No idea what she'd be interested in otherwise.”

“Hmmm...,” Sansa mused, “what about... new outdoor shoes?”

Jon nodded.

“Sounds perfect for her.”

 

Jaime flexed his shoulder muscles and watched Brienne nibble on a portion of roasted chestnuts.

“Why is it always so difficult to find the right gift for Sevenmas? This is more stressful than anything else. And it's not as if I were the crone's best friend to lend me wisdom for my choices.”

Brienne shot back: “At least you're honest enough to admit it. I wish he ever came up with something on canon-scale for Sevenmas. Like Oathkeeper. But what did I get last year? Lion-paw-shaped slippers!”

 

That caused Sandor to throw back his head and to roar with laughter, Sansa giggled, and even serious Jon started to grin. It was fascinating to watch Jaime's ears change their colour then.

 

Turning to Sansa, Val asked: “By the way – how's Bran doing?”

Sansa, who was munching on a potato fritter with apple sauce, swallowed down a morsel of food and answered: “Still working on this modern AU tree nursery job with Coldhands and Shireen. But he's fine.”

 

Brienne asked: “Will you be going home for the holidays?”

Sansa nodded.

“Haven't been at Winterfell for ages. Can't wait to see the decorated Heart Tree. The only thing I'm dreading is the bickering between my parents, Arya and Sandor.”

 

The scarred man snorted.

“I could always ask Gregor if we should visit him instead.”

Sansa smacked Sandor's arm, and Brienne grinned at them.

“What a relief to see Jaime and me are not the only ones who keep chaffing about stuff.”

 

Jaime grunted.

“Clegane, sometimes you simply mustn't listen to female chitter-chatter. Now to something else: I heard you've been invited to the Dornish holiday residence for the turn of the year?”

Sandor nodded.

“I came across Oberyn in a Blackwater AU some weeks ago. It was about me and Sansa seeking refuge in Dorne after the battle. And Oberyn invited me.”

“I see,” Jaime answered. “Nice plans. I'll be going to Tarth with Brienne, of course.

 

Suddenly, a dark horn caused Sansa to flinch.

“What's that?”

Val laughed.

“Nothing serious. Just the Wall's Sevenmas Truck. Yoren is driving it every day now, and the children are mesmerised.”

“I see,” Sansa answered. “Has the Night's Watch got a spin doctor to attract people now?”

Jon nodded and handed Ghost a piece of meat.

“Public relations are everything these days.”

“If only it was known in canon,” Jaime commented, and Jon sighed.

 

After another few minutes, Jaime yawned again.

“Would you folks mind if I called it a day?” he asked. “Got so much to do tomorrow.”

“In that case – piss off,” Sandor answered and grinned.

 

One by one, they scattered and returned home to their flats. Sansa sang “Silent Night's Watch” and Sandor felt comfortably fuzzy after three tankards of mulled wine. When they entered their domicile, he said to Sansa: “You know... Sevenmas is the Feast of Love.”

“Yes?” Sansa asked and raised an eyebrow.

Sandor went on: “So here's a gingerbread heart for you.”

“Aww!” Sansa exclaimed happily. “Thank you!”

She threw herself at him, kissed him, and Sandor started to grin.

“I've also got a candy stick for you, and I think it should be unwrapped at once.”

“Sandor Clegane, you've got the dirtiest mind in the Seven Kingdoms!”

Sandor held up a sugar cane striped in red and white.

“Actually, Sansa, I think you are the one with a dirty mind today.”

 

Moments later, the two had a blizzard in their bedroom – only it wasn't snowing flakes, but feathers from various cushions. In the background, a radio blared: _“Deck the hall with boughs of holly, fa la la la la, la la la la. Tis' the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la la la.“_


End file.
